


the heart is an unruly thing

by yodalorian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crushes, Emotional Conflict, F/M, I'm projecting again, Implied/Referenced Sex, Internal Conflict, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Yearning, drug mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29903391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodalorian/pseuds/yodalorian
Summary: Even through dark days and new dawns, through a Dark Lord’s reign and his final defeat, Draco Malfoy never stopped loving Hermione Granger. He never stopped seeing her in the pale pink blush of sunrise or the dusting of stars across a deep blue night. He never stopped longing for her so desperately and painfully that he felt like he was drowning.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	the heart is an unruly thing

It started at the Yule Ball.

Likely the worst day of Draco Lucius Malfoy’s miserable little life.

It was born among glittering crystals of ice and sparkling fairies.

When the fanfare sounded, and the champions marched in, wearing their dates on their arms.

But not her.

_ She  _ wore  _ Krum. _

Her hair glossy and smooth, her slender body swathed in clouds of floating silk.

An angel.

She was the most radiant thing he had ever seen.

He tried to wrestle the rebellious thoughts out of his mind.

They scared him.

He stamped them down and ordered them back to whatever strange depth they had come from.

It didn’t work.

He thought about nothing else for the rest of the night.

Not even when the ball was over, when Crabbe snored and Goyle drooled and Blaise and Theo hissed whispered gossip at each other.

He lay in a lake of moonlight and felt a terrible ache in his chest.

It was a momentary lapse in judgment, he told himself. It would pass soon.

It didn’t. 

Everyday, the ache grew. It burned and gnawed at him with each passing hour.

Seeing her in the dining hall or in Potions sated it for a few moments, but it returned with renewed ferocity. It always returned.

The wizarding world had its own fair share of intoxicants. Crushed snargaluff flowers, noxweed roots, even butterbeer for the unlucky. Draco didn’t need any of that. He already knew what addiction felt like.

Seeing her made stars explode in front of him. Seeing her made his lungs fill with too much breath. 

Even the things he used to hate, her ridiculously large hair, her teeth that were a little too big, the way she set her textbooks and parchment firmly on the desk as if everything had to be a declaration. It was like someone had thrown a switch in Draco’s brain. The things that irritated him endlessly he now greedily grasped at. Like he was dying, and she was his saving grace.

He started to change the paths he took to his classes. Just catching a glimpse of her in the corridors was worth it.

He did his best to bury it. He threw himself into his studies. He focused on lessons and essays and perfect marks. He tried to force her out with lists of goblin wars and intricate Transfiguration techniques.

She was still there. Radiant. The thing in his chest clawed at him even more.

He bathed it in hostility. He attacked her and her friends. He hurled cruel words and enchanted insulting buttons and spread slanderous rumors.

It didn’t work.

She was driving him insane.

He tried to reason with himself. Late at night, when only the moon still kept him company, he held endless debates in his mind. His opponent was his own heart.

This was wrong. All of this was wrong. He was the scion of a proud pureblood family, ancient and strong. He would uphold their legacy. He would not taint his blood by mixing it with hers. He could not bear the cold rejection of his parents if he gave in to his darkest desires. He had to stand firm. The Malfoy name mattered most.

He tried to imagine himself marrying some Slytherin pureblood girl. He would surely be happy enough with her. He could be okay with her.

She seemed as flimsy as a paper doll next to Hermione Granger.

The heart is an unruly thing.

She would ruin him.

When his exhaustion wore away at him, and his self-control faltered, he allowed himself a few brief moments of dreaming. 

He imagined tangling his fingers in her curls. He imagined drinking in the taste of her skin. He imagined her soft lips trailing across his body. He imagined her warm body laying in his arms.

It could not happen. It must not happen.

Still, he imagined what it must feel like to be loved by her.

He dreamed of what he could not have and felt the great heaviness of it settle over him.

The burning ache stayed with him. Even time, that great force which erodes all things, did not weaken it.

They grew up. He watched Pansy and Theo and Blaise find their own loves. He watched them kiss and embrace and fall asleep on each other. He offered ghostly smiles of support  _ (I’m happy for you. You deserve each other.)  _ and did his best to ignore the terrible hollowness inside his stomach.

He saw the way a smile always spread over Potter’s face when Ginny was near. He saw the way Ginny’s eyes sparkled when Potter spoke to her.

He saw the way Granger’s eyes always lingered on Weasley for a second longer than necessary.

That should have been the end of it. It was impossible. She had eyes for someone else.

She hated him. She did not care about him. She would not want him. She wished he was dead.

And yet he found new ways to fall apart every day. 

The heart is an unruly thing. It defies logic and reason. It will not be swayed. It would shatter rules and boundaries in pursuit of what it wants. And it will not be quenched. Not by wars, or curses, or old prejudices, or even a skull and serpent seared onto his forearm. Draco Malfoy’s heart burned through them all.

Even through dark days and new dawns, through a Dark Lord’s reign and his final defeat, Draco Malfoy never stopped loving Hermione Granger. He never stopped seeing her in the pale pink blush of sunrise or the dusting of stars across a deep blue night. He never stopped longing for her so desperately and painfully that he felt like he was drowning.

His soul would never stop aching to be united with its other half. And somehow, despite everything, he never lost the tiny flickering flame of hope that someday, somewhere, it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jedioncer?lang=en)  
> to hear me yell about other dumb things


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